


Kandersgiving 2016

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Nesting, no dead Karl here, teeny tiny Circle mage apprentices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 16:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12436650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: 5 Kanders shorts that were written for Kandersgiving 2016 and originally posted on Tumblr.4 out of 5 are fluffy but the other is really angst. One is omegaverse and one is Fenkanders. No Karls were killed in the creation of these drabbles.





	1. First Meeting

In hindsight, it was a miracle that Karl didn’t just shove him, as well as a sign of the man’s endless patience being part of his very being.

The scruffy boy had made no excuses, hadn’t even tried to be even _remotely_ polite. Upon being brought into the apprentice dorms he made a beeline for the far corner, climbed the bunk bed and tossed everything out that was in his way. He had proceeded to roll himself into the blanket and remained unresponsive to any attempt of the other apprentices to talk to him.

So when Karl returned to his bed and found his clean robes and the books he’d been reading in bed all over the floor… well, if Anders would find such a scene on top of some strange kid in his bed, he wouldn’t have reacted half as well.

Yet Karl had simply gathered his things and deposited them on the free bottom bunk. He then climbed the ladder and sat next to the ball of blanket and boy, poking him with a finger curiously until he got a reaction.

~~“You’re in my bed,”~~ he explained cheerfully to the disgruntled sound from beneath the blankets. ~~“I’m Karl Thekla. Who’re you?”~~

No response from the boy, who simply curled up tighter.

_Karl Thekla_. He may not speak Trade yet, he could recognise an introduction when he heard one. And Karl wasn’t a strange name to him either. It could’ve been an Anders name, but in all honesty, he didn’t know. All names here sounded odd – as far as people had bothered to introduce themselves anyway.

~~“You’re new, aren’t you? Wanna be friends?”~~

Why this Karl kid sounded so friendly was a mystery. Ever since his father has sold him out he’d heard nothing but angry voices. Angry Templars with angry squeezing hands. Sometimes, when he was lucky, voices of pity from villagers when they crossed through a town. Pity, but they’d skirt around him like he had the plague.

~~“The Templars call him Anders! He’s so weird!”~~

This was one of the other children squeaking at them. He had no idea what was being it said, but that kid was a tattletale for sure! Karl shifted forward however to shout back.

~~“He’s not weird! You were scared when you got here too!”~~

~~“Yeah, but when I got here I was still small! He’s way too old to be a scared pussy like that! I bet he’s an apostate, being brought in this old.”~~

~~“Shut up!”~~

He rolled away from this Karl, curling his arms around his head while the children around him bickered. He knew it was about him. He knew it was bad. The only odd thing was that it sounded like Karl was defending him.

He jumped at the sudden hand on his back, and he quickly turned his head, wide eyes watching the kid beside him.

~~“Don’t worry, Anders. Niall wet his bed for months after being brought to the Circle, so he’s hardly one to talk. I’ll help you get used to things here.”~~

He blinked, watching the older child’s lips move. A friendly smile, a soft and soothing tone. A warm pat to his back through all the blankets.

Karl was the first friendly voice since he got sold out by his father.

“Thank you,” he rasped, watching the other blink quickly in surprise. No doubt he could not understand his words, probably not speaking Anders.

But then a bright smile broke on Karl’s face, and Anders’ eyes widened.

Because that was the most _beautiful_ thing he’d ever seen, and maybe, just maybe… the Circle would not be purely hell after all.


	2. Don't say 'I love you'

Karl always _did_ take his responsibilities way too seriously.

Anders supposed that was the reason he had gotten so many privileges already. Karl didn’t get caught as a culprit of their shared pranks half as often as Anders did – Anders made sure of that himself, after all – and he was incredibly intelligent. But even then it was amazing how he had already gotten a little office of his own and tasks that were more befitting of Senior Enchanters.

The downside of his leap in privileges was that he forgot himself. He took his responsibilities _way_ too seriously.

Anders kicked the door of the little office closed behind him, balancing a plate with some leftover bread and cheese from dinner on one hand, reaching to light a few candles with the other.

“Don’t tell me you’ve sat here all day and haven’t eaten anything.”

Karl barely even acknowledged him, just giving a low hum while his quill scribbled on enthusiastically over the parchment.

“Karl.”

Anders pouted, cocking his hips right in front of the desk. A futile attempt to distract his friend, really.

“Ka-arl!”

“Mhh in a minute Anders…”

Anders sighed, dropping the plate on top of Karl’s work and moving to light the candles on the desk as well. The warm glow of fire filled the room, causing the working mage to blink rapidly, leaning away from his suddenly covered work.

“Eat, Karl. Healer’s orders.”

“What Healer? I only see a prankster here.”

“Ouch. You hurt me, Karl.” Anders pressed a hand to his heart, tossing his head back with a flair for dramatics. Karl chuckled good-naturedly though, and when Anders circled the desk the other had tore off a piece of bread to eat.

“This bread is stale!”

“That’s because dinner was over an hour ago, you foolish man. You’re working yourself too hard.”

Anders knocked Karl in the side of the head lightly, before wriggling himself onto the other’s lap. Karl made a token of protest, but no more, wrapping his arms around the younger mage almost immediately.

“I wanted to finish that page, you know? I was inspired, and-”

“Blah-blah- you gotta eat first!” Anders leaned down to kiss Karl hard, reaching behind him to grab the cheese from the plate on the desk. As soon as their lips parted he pressed the cheese into Karl’s mouth, making the man splutter in protest.

A short struggle and Anders gave in snickering, allowing Karl to take the food himself. His smile softened again when his friend ate.

“You make me worry about you, you know? You forget to eat, forget to sleep, forget to go out. All for writing this damn thing. And for what, making a name for yourself in the Circle? You know force magic is Kirkwall’s thing, you should not try to impress the mages there so much. Maker forbid they’ll want you to visit the infamous Gallows of Kirkwall.”

“It’s easy for you to talk, Spirit Healer.” Karl nibbled on the bread, looking at Anders from under his lashes with mild contempt. “You have a good name no matter what you do. I need to earn my privileges by hard work. And I found this thing that may really make a difference in force magic! You see, if you apply force on a-”

“Hold it right there!” Anders pressed a finger to Karl’s lips, frowning hard. “Keep your force magic to yourself, mister. If you want to make a difference for force mages, that’s your business, but your _health_ is mine. Take care of yourself, or I will do it for you. Don’t make me worry any more than I need, Karl!”

Karl blinked at him, looking like he was about to argue before his face suddenly softened. Anders cocked an eyebrow in surprise, but returned the smile when his finger was given a soft kiss.

“Alright. I’m sorry Anders, it won’t happen again.”

“Hmm, now _that’s_ what I like to hear.” He grinned mischievously, wiggling on Karl’s lap. “Wanna kiss and make up now?”

…

~~“Don’t tell me you’ve sat here all day and haven’t eaten anything.”~~

~~Anders barely even acknowledged him, just giving a low hum while his quill scribbled on angrily over the parchment.~~

~~“Anders!”~~


	3. Nesting day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The omegaverse drabble, and the fluffiest of them all.  
> Warning for strongly implied mpreg

When Anders woke up, it was to the shifting of his bedding being fluffed up around him.

He lifted his head to blink blearily at the culprit, who stopped immediately.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Anders let out a soft sleepy whimper, tilting his head back a little more when Karl leaned over to kiss his cheek tenderly. He nuzzled into the man’s cheek, nose scrunching slightly at the length of his beard.

“Go trim your beard,” he muttered sleepily, rolling over to snuggle deeper into his nest of blankets and pillows.

He could hear the faint chuckling above him, then felt the blankets being tucked around him some more, and Anders drifted off again.

…

Next time he woke, it was deep into the morning, and there was the unmistakeable buzz of people talking quietly in the clinic beyond the thin wall. Anders debated the pros and cons of getting up from his comfortable nest of blankets and pillows to go check on what no doubt would be patients, but ended with deciding against.

His whole body was still heavy with fatigue, even though he’d been sleeping for far too long now. The insides of his belly were moving like a particularly bad case of gasses – or, as the case was, someone being miffed over his position pressed against a pillow.

He murmured an apology that would not be heard, rolling over onto his back and drawing the offending pillow with him. A particularly large, soft and bright red pillow Karl had stolen from Hawke’s estate for him.

Well, _stolen_ … Anders knew Hawke long enough to know it had been meant to be stolen. If Karl hadn’t been foraging as feverishly as he had, Hawke might’ve _ordered_ the alpha to take the pillow.

As well as the red blanket, currently stuck between Anders’ legs.

He reached down to tug on the blanket, shifting lazily until he could draw it loose from his weight, and pressed his face into it.

The smell of Hawke was just a faint afterthought now. It was mostly the smell of Karl, and himself. _The smell of pregnancy._

The sounds in the clinic had stopped, and Anders pouted slightly into his blanket. It couldn’t be patients if it was quiet already.

He really should open for patients. Karl could not care for them like he could. But he was just so _tired_. If he could just lay here a little longer…

…

He woke again with the warmth of Karl pressed against his back, the smell of alpha in his nose.

An odd mix between the overwhelmingly sweet smell of Karl and the slightly sour undertones of Fenris and wine from the ratty pillow he currently had his face pressed in.

This was a pillow Karl had no doubt stolen without the owner’s permission, but even Karl’s bleeding heart would not feel bad about such a transgression against Fenris. In any case, even the mage-hating elf would have trouble demanding his pillow back, now it was added to the comfy nest of a pregnant omega. If not for the smells clinging to it now, it was simply _not-done_. Even if he wasn’t proud to be part of the nesting traditions of two mages.

Anders squirmed in Karl’s arm to roll over, pressing his face into his alpha’s chest. Warm, spicy and almost too sweet, Anders sniffed and hummed contently. A neatly trimmed beard brushed against his forehead, and he grinned lazily at the realisation that Karl had done what he asked.

“Sleep well, Love?”

Anders murmured sleepily, snuggling a little closer.

“You smell so rich,” Karl muttered against his hair, nuzzling the mess of blond. “So _full_.”

“I _am_ full,” Anders laughed quietly, his voice gravelly from sleep. He pulled back to look up at Karl, gaze soft not only from sleep, but also love.

_~~To know they would never have been allowed to have this if they had remained at the Circle.~~ _

“Sorry for not getting up today… did the clinic need me?”

Karl huffed softly, kissing first one cheek, then the other. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Isabela and Varric came by to check on you, but I only let Varric have a peak. Isabela would’ve woken you up for sure.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Anders pouted slightly, pressing forward again to rub his face against Karl’s chest. He felt his alpha reach over him and draw in some of the blankets and pillows, banking them back into their make-shift nest.

Not the best nest in the world, considering they had little to start with. But it was filled with pillows and blankets from their friends, everyone Karl had dared to steal from, everyone who left comfortable pieces for their nest in his foraging path. Anders could tell Hawke and Varric especially had gone out of their way to give a little more than was traditional, knowing Anders’ bed had not contained much more than a straw mattress, a torn blanket and his one embroidered pillow from his mother.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Karl’s voice had dropped even further, barely a breath of sound.

Anders hummed an affirmative, patting his lover’s arm to find his hand and drawing it between them to his belly. He pressed his alpha’s large palm against the taut skin there, letting him feel the slight squirm that followed the pressure.

“Almost.”

“Are you still comfy? Do I need to get you some more pillows? Perhaps another blanket…?”

Anders laughed, stretching a little to press a loving kiss to his fussing alpha’s lips.

“Just you, Karl. Just you.”


	4. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the not fluffy drabble

“We’re free.”

Karl’s hand tightened in his own, and Anders smiled. Brightly. Even if there were tears running down his cheeks, cooling in the bitter cold wind.

“We made it, Love,” Karl responded gently, lifting their hands to press a kiss to the back of Anders’ hand. “We escaped the Circle. They will never lock us away again. You will never be alone again.”

“Free.” Anders echoed, sniffling and quickly rubbing his face with his sleeve.

He flashed Karl a smile before pulling him, starting forward into the meadow before them. The grass was high, the flowers bright – whoever this meadow belonged to could use some cows. Or goats. Or whatever people kept here to keep their grass short.

It was easy to move through despite how high the grass reached though, sweet smells of flowers all around them and intoxicating. Nothing like the books and the dust and the ink he was used to. No sharp tang of lyrium or sweaty metal of Templar armour.

If he had to compare it to something, it would be the sweet perfumes of the older Senior Enchanters.

_Actually, it smelled exactly like it_.

Had he known the smell of freedom was this close, he’d have hooked up with one of the elderly ladies sooner.

“Where shall we go?”

Anders shook his head in response. He had no idea. He just wanted to be free.

It was so bright out here, in the sun. Warmth were the sun burned into his clothes, cool where his feet were placed between the shade of the waving grass.

On and on. No direction.

Just the meadow of grass and flowers and the smell of freedom.

“Why are you crying, Anders? We’re free. We’re together and free. Why are you upset?”

Karl stopped him, tugging on his hand. Anders turned to face his lover reluctantly, his smile narrow and bitter and his cheeks still wet.

“What’s the matter, Love?”

A thumb brushed a tear away; Karl looked worried.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Anders offered as explanation. It made Karl smile and lean in, their lips brushing together.

Sweet taste of flowers, crisp on the freezing wind. So very cold to be in a meadow, but luckily the sun warmed them.

“You have to wait no longer,” Karl promised quietly against his lips. “We’ll always be together, my Love. Together and free.”

“Always,” Anders agreed, leaning into the kiss. Karl’s lips were smooth, tasting like wine and honeyed candies. When the older mage placed a hand in the nape of Anders’ neck to draw him closer, it made him shiver with the heat of it.

Karl was like a furnace, warming him in their freedom.

Anders sniffled again, and Karl kissed him more insistently. Trying to dry his tears with his free hand, pressing closer.

-but Anders pulled away, pressing against Karl’s chest and shaking his head with a rueful smile.

“Anders? What’s wrong, Love, tell me?”

“I’ve wanted this for too long,” he cried, and then he pushed hard.

And when Karl stumbled back in surprise, the warm sun fled and the lush grass faded.

And the sweet smell of flowers became sickening, because it was the smell of the magebane infused in the air of his small cell.

And Anders cried on the cold floor, painfully awake from his dreams plagued by demons.

_Because Karl had been taken to Kirkwall, and Anders would never be free. No matter how hard he desired the truth to be different._


	5. Mages who aren't Magisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the ship you didn't know you were waiting for: Fenkanders

“I thought you hated mages?”

“I do not.”

“Since when?”

Fenris refused to look the dwarf in the eye. He refused.

“I never hated mages. I hate magisters and what magic has done to my life.”

“I see. So the two mages currently moving into your mansion are…?”

“-not magisters.”

His lips were pressed together in a thin line of determination, and he stubbornly watched the aforementioned mages push and pull old furniture across his room. Wherever they had even found those things.

“Just be careful, Broody. If you hurt them, you’ll be in for a world of trouble, you know that right?”

“Are you threatening me?”

Fenris finally deigned to look down, quirking one eyebrow at Varric questioningly. There was no heat in his question, the dwarf was his friend too. In fact, he had the feeling Anders and Karl would be receiving the same warning.

“No need for that. They’re more than capable of protecting each other.” Varric reached up to give Fenris a pat on the lower back, grinning up at him. “Now have fun, and be nice, okay? And try not to lose that paper, it is the deed to your mansion. Lose the paper and you lose the house.”

“Noted. Thank you, Varric.”

“No problem, Broody.”

Varric tottered off to let himself out of the mansion and Fenris sighed deeply, steeling himself. Yes, he’d invited the two mages to come live with him. His own words, his own invitation. He’d come to… care for them in ways he had not expected.

Anders first, with their bickering and fighting. He hadn’t even realised how hard he’d fallen for the infuriating healer until Karl took him aside for a talk. Of course the man was worried. Fenris figured he’d be worried about Fenris trying to steal him but… it turned out Karl was mostly worried about Anders getting hurt.

Fenris had dismissed the mage, but after that it was impossible to ignore the two. He realised he was _jealous_. Jealous of what they had together. Jealous of the handsome, feisty mage with such a caring lover. Jealous of the calm, smiling mage with the undivided attention of his lover whenever he so much as touched him.

He found himself no longer afraid of their magic, and that confused him most. More even than his own reluctance to decide which of the two he envied more.

And then, all of a sudden, it hadn’t mattered anymore. He found himself down in Anders’ clinic and on the receiving end of elfroot kisses and tender touches to his cheeks. There were fingers sliding along the hem of his tunic to sneak underneath and tease him lightly and a hot breath and hotter lips moving against the tip of his ear.

And strangely, that had been just perfect. Sandwiched between two mages, and he hadn’t been afraid. Hadn’t been nervous for anything but the fluttering of delight in his stomach for what was to come. Anders, for all his cruel words and sharp tongue, threw himself into loving Fenris as vigorously as he usually fought him; and Karl was the calming presence he always was, right behind Fenris, holding him in place without restraining.

The night had been all sorts of perfect and when Fenris woke up, he was still there. On a rickety cot down in the sewers, yes. But also with a mage melded to each of his sides, mirrored in their positions with one leg hooked over one of his own and their head safely nestled in the crook of his neck.

And Fenris decided then and there that he always wanted to wake up like this.

Of course he hadn’t invited them to move into his mansion straight away – that is, he tried, but Karl had given him that knowing look before he even got to open his mouth and shook his head minutely. They had proceeded with laving a still sleepy healer with attention instead, and even if that resulted in Karl tumbling off the cot twice over one morning, Fenris kept his silence about any invitation he wanted to give.

It had been long enough now.

Frankly, he was fed-up with the cot and how much trouble it was to coax the mages up to join him when they still thought they were ‘imposing’. It took a fairly hot night and a lot of well appreciated bruises that didn’t heal for a week to convince them of how welcome they were, and after that it was just a matter of semantics, really.

Fenris took care of getting the deed to his mansion through Varric and the mages moved in. They didn’t have many possessions to bring, but they had a lot to say about Fenris interior design, or lack thereof.

“That’s better!” Anders stood grinning, wiping the sweat from his forehead while Karl fell back into Fenris’ favourite chair, panting. It was amazing Karl even managed that much; the man really had no stamina nor strength to speak of.

“You brought in a couch,” Fenris stated flatly, eyeing the thing uncertainly. It rather dominated his small corner by the fireside now, his favourite chair almost dwarfed next to it now.

“So we can snuggle together, of course!” Anders beamed at him before moving around and dragging Karl up to his feet. “Come one, Love; it’s only the desk left. And after that we can take a long warm bath and you won’t have to lift a thing anymore.”

Karl made the most pathetic whimpering sound in protest and Fenris decided to intervene quickly. Karl was no match to Grey Warden stamina.

“I’ll get the desk, leave him be.” Fenris patted Anders’ shoulder and pried him off the tired mage, allowing Karl to sink back down on the chair. If he had expected Anders to be disappointed about not being able to drag Karl with him – they _were_ practically attached by the hip, after all – he would’ve been wrong. Rather than that, he received the brightest smile and two arms full of excited mage.

“Will you carry me there? Can you move the desk with me on top? I bet you can, you’re the strongest elf I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, mage,” he warned calmly, even if he couldn’t help the grin on his face. He picked Anders up to carry him to wherever they had found the desk.

It wouldn’t hurt _trying_ to humour the mage, right?

His mages weren’t magisters, after all.


End file.
